Deliverance
by KetamineSquared
Summary: Kenny's out for revenge and he's going to get it no matter what it takes. MM K2, Style, Tyde, Creekomas; some disturbing scenes, extreme non-con, Stockholm Syndrome
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

In a series of mixed feelings, Kyle's future occupations were available by the bunch with his prestige and academic achievements throughout all of high school, and later, university. With a lot of careful consideration and the lack of desire to take up his father's law firm, however, the eldest Broflovski child made his decision to take up perhaps the most insensitive but well-paying job he could think of.

Not particularly vexed about the condition of his corvette as he drove up the dusty road to the farmhouse in the most rural parts of the outskirts of South Park, adjusting his pink tinted sunglasses as he stepped with leisure out of his car and made his way to the front door of the house.

He took in a casual notation of his surroundings, acknowledging the location as he clicked his file folder open and reviewed the draft for the person inside as he knocked on the wooden door, ignoring the chipped paint. He frowned at the lack of answer, adjusting the collar of the fitted suit he was wearing carefully before wandering toward the barn instead, peering in and spotting his victim inside.

"Ah, mister McCormick. How nice to see you," his business voice on, the redhead flipped a few curls tagged back neatly in two clips against his right temple and strolled up to the blond calmly, pulling the photocopied forms from their folder.

"It seems that you still aren't paying those taxes, and so I'm here to inform you of your final warning before we seize belongings to compensate. I'm here personally because you appear to have cut off your phone lines, so it seems. So this is the last notice before we evict you."

He flipped through the files calmly a moment before offering Kenny a winning smile. Kyle was entirely aware that it was Kenny McCormick standing before him, but not an ounce of pity slid past his business-like demeanour. A relationship they'd carried in high school ending in Kenny tooling him of over a thousand dollars in savings from bank card theft and fraud had ended both their steady-goings and their friendship as well. He was pleased to see the blond rolling around in mud and straw where he belonged.

Kenny, however, had it pretty good for a kid who had grown up in poverty; sure, the old farmhouse was a piece of work and was a death trap no matter where you walked, and sure, the roof of the barn was falling in, and sure, Ken was making most of his money off the marijuana plants that were growing in the middle of the corn field on his property, but it was sure as hell better than living in a shack and getting molested by his father every five seconds. At least he was eating.

The man was shovelling a pile of hay as Kyle approached, making room for his bony and half-dead horse so the damn thing would have at least something to eat. Dressed in a wife beater and a pair of ragged cutoff jeans along with a pair of pink Converse All Stars he had swiped from some guy he had fucked, the blonde was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, a day or two's worth of stubble speckling his face. He looked like a man living alone on a farm should; utterly uncaring about appearance. But there were still those raw good looks that had made him a favourite of the ladies in high school and had hooked him the redhead currently standing in the barn.

Kenny straightened up at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice, turning and looking at the redhead before smirking rather nastily, grabbing the other's hair and dragging him forward a little bit. "Well fuck me sideways and call me a bitch, if it isn't Kyle fuckin' Broflovski. I was almost sure you had gotten outta this fuckin' hick town."

He offered a predatory smirked, shaking his head and running his tongue over his lips. "I'm gonna tell you right now, man, I ain't gonna move out no matter what you threaten me with. You're no better than a fuckin' pig in my mind. And you know what else, Kyle?"

The redneck twisted his hand, immediately slamming Kyle up against the poorly painted wall of the barn, pinning him there. "I ain't gonna put up with your fuckin' shit. You got me in jail, you little whore, just for some money. Guess Cartman was always right about fuckin' Jews. So I'm just gonna take from you what you took from me. Who're you fuckin' now? Craig? Tweek? Token? Or are you finally sleepin' with Stan? Imagine headin' back home and havin' to explain to our super best friend what I did to you."

Kyle stared Kenny down dully with disinterest to his words, taking the time to look at his polished watch a moment as he was held back against the wall before adjusting his shoulders and calmly peeling Kenny's hands away from his body with the majority of his strength.

"Look, Kenny. You stole over a thousand dollars from me. When we were seventeen. Meaning, essentially, all of my money that I had saved personally for school. And for what? Drugs," he crinkled his noise with a curt smile and patted the side of Kenny's rough face before brushing himself off and licking his lips.

"What I'm doing with myself now is about as much of your business as what you're doing with yourself. Which is nothing. Not only I do I not care, but I never asked for you to not pay your bills, nor did I ask what you're spending your money on, because we're well aware you're making it, Kenny."

Taking a moment to walk a few steps away, he shifted his shoulder uncomfortably, unbelieving to Kenny's threats but still weary even so. "I always knew you were a bit selfish, but you stole from me when I put all of my trust in you, and now that you're a criminal as well, I want nothing to do with you."

He pegged his blackberry with his thumb in order to tell Stan that things were going terribly. The accountant replied for details and he relayed the stitch in a nutshell before stuffing his phone back into his inner breast pocket and staring at the scraggly excuse for a man ahead of him.

"This is my job. I can't help what I'm doing to you at the moment. So you can stop being an anarchist in the underbrush and get a job and pay off the money you owe, or you can lose your house and all of your belongings. It's your choice," he muttered, patting the horse on the muzzle before turning his back wistfully and attempting to make a retreat toward the barn's entrance.

"Holy fuckin' hell. You gotta be kiddin' me. What the fuck happened to you, man?" Kenny eyed the other man distastefully, making a face as he watched the guy he had once been desperately in love with. This wasn't Kyle in the slightest. Kenny grabbed Kyle's hand as the other made to leave, twisting him around again and slamming him against the wall for the second time. He just stared, looking at the redhead as if searching for clues as to why the other was such a... well, a dick. He saw nothing physically that indicated this except for maybe the pink sunglasses, but that made him look more gay than like a douchebag.

Kenny kept him pinned; he easily outweighed Kyle and had a couple inches on him. There was no way the redhead was breaking away this time. "If gettin' a job turns me into a douchebag like you, I'd rather live on the goddamn streets. You're like a fuckin' robot or somethin'. Goddamn disgustin', people like you."

The blonde dug his fingers into Kyle's shoulder, leaning forward and looking over the other man with disdain. "So you found out I'm sellin' weed. Whoop-de-fuckin'-doo. Took you what, one look at Google Earth? Fuckin' asshole. You know the fantastic think about livin' all the way out here, Ky? No matter what you do, no one's gonna hear you ever. We're about a mile away from the nearest neighbour. Neat, ain't it? I can do whatever the fuck I want with you and no one's gonna know. Now why don't you drop your phone on the ground, Kyle, so we can talk this out like adults without you callin' your boyfriend for backup."

If there was something that Kyle had never abandoned from his childhood, it was the stone cold attitude that he was giving Kenny from his place against the wall as the other male spoke to him. Feeling his teeth twitch together as his anger began to override his business face, he let his expression sink away from it's previous sunny composure and instead evaporate into a nasty scowl.

"Kenny. A job doesn't make someone a dick. You stole from me. You broke my trust. You took drugs and cigarettes over my love for you, and now I hate you, and I have every right," he relayed through gritted teeth. "Living out in the woods like a hobbit was your decision. Everyone else is riding out life fine with their jobs, including Craig, and Stan, and Cartman, and everyone else. Guess what? We all get along just fine. If you stopped playing camp kill yourself and crawled out of your hole and cleaned up a bit, you would understand, and you would come to realize that the only one being a total dick is you."

He made a slight attempt to wiggle free, finding no use in his actions. His own insight on life left him slender and curved as Stan liked it, and he was regretting it no more than he was right then, being that under his layers of fury he was starting to panic. Feeling his pulse escalate slightly, he let his bottle greens flicker for a chance of any escape, finding none and then returning to stare Kenny back down with as much dryness as possible.

"If you do this, you're going to regret it. You know you will and I know you will. So drop this now and let me go. I'll send another associate to come next time if you can't handle being this close to me," he shot at him with empty humour, leaning his head back and shifting his shoulders. There was no way...

Kenny laughed, a dry, unamused sound that held no humour whatsoever. He moved his hand a little so the heel of his palm was digging into Kyle's collarbone, licking his lips as he watched the other. He knew the redhead, and the slight flicker of panic in Kyle's eyes was enough to tell Kenny that he was freaking the other man out. And that was good. That was great. That's what he set out to do and he was accomplishing his goal quickly enough. As Kyle finished speaking, Kenny just smirked, shaking his head. "You honest to god think that I'm gonna regret rapin' the guy who put me in jail? Jeez, you're fuckin' stupid. I don't love you anymore. Hell, it's hard to tell if I even loved you in the first place; you were such a bitch to me. Maybe I was just stupid. Whatever it was, I ain't in love with you. If you think that I'm gonna go easy on you because we used to be friends, then you're stupider than I figured."

Kenny yanked open Kyle's jacket, pulling out the Blackberry and chucking it across the barn, the thing breaking against the far wall. Scratching idly at his stubble, Kenny looked over the man in front of him and drove his fist upward, breaking the redhead's nose in one fluid movement and shoving him to his knees. "We can either play this game my way and you can cooperate or there's the old cistern I can lock you up in. You can starve to death in there or play along now. What's it gonna be, asshole?"

Kyle could taste blood in his mouth instantly. Shit.

Shit shit _shit_.

He grappled with his nose, stars still flashing behind his eyes as pain temporarily blinded him, one hand gripping the rough straw beneath his palm. This was not good. Not at all. Pulling his legs up slightly he felt his heart only pounding faster as his vision slide back into focus on the chalky canvas of Kenny's shoes.

He staggered upward slowly, using the barn wall to stabilize himself before turning to stare at Kenny, opening his mouth to speak.

And then he ran.

The redhead sprinted out of the barn with the speed of a cheetah on fire; being lithe did have some upsides to living as he tore across the lawn with his rush of adrenaline pumping through him in full. Not only did the fucking little ginger run, he ran like a fucking Kenyan, taking off across the lawn like the devil himself was at his heels. Kenny stared in shocked silence as his prey got away before his eyes flicked to the rusty but trustworthy pickup truck sitting on the front lawn.

Not wasting time with the stupid door as he vaulted over the door to the convertible, Kyle shakily wasted no time slamming his keys into the ignition and slamming his foot down to the floor of the car, sending the corvette speeding down the dusty road at full speed.

Kenny ran, wrenching open the door to the truck and taking off, dust flying up from under the tires as he sped after the convertible. Kenny felt like he was on heroin, the intensity of what was going on running through his veins like a full dose of some good old-fashioned smack.

_Holy fuck. The little bitch actually ran._

The redneck tore off down the road, pushing the piece of shit pickup to his limits; his one advantage was that this was an off-road vehicle and the convertible most certainly was not. Ken drew level with Kyle's car and clipped the nose of the expensive corvette, taking it out and flipping it over in a ditch. He slid to a halt, the pickup skidding a little on the dirt and sending up a spray of gravel, but the truck stayed upright and Kenny slid out of the door, walking over to the upside down convertible and dragging his victim out.

He hefted Kyle into a fireman's carry, starting to walk back towards the house with the unconscious redhead in his arms, panting but feeling accomplished. Once there he chucked the redhead onto the beat up sofa, waiting for him to wake the fuck back up so they could have a little 'discussion'.


	2. Chapter 2

Kyle could taste blood, not only from his nose but from the sure-fire wound on his head that was dribbling the coppery fluid down his fore head and right temple. His eyes slid open to a red haze, and he blinked his eyes, feeling the burn of his body from the couch.

Kenny watched the other man rather disinterestedly, licking his lips and shaking his head. Kyle honestly had no idea why he was here and why Kenny was doing this to him, and maybe that was the best part of it. The fact that he had the only person he had ever actually hated sitting in front of him, the fact that Kyle was bleeding all over the place, disheveled and broken looking, the fact that Kenny now had a new pet... it all made for some good, good stuff and the blonde just watched as Kyle tried to plead his case. It was fascinating, of course, but Kenny didn't really care. It got awful lonely out here and that was probably his first reason for kidnapping his ex-boyfriend. He hadn't had proper sex in quite some time.

Kyle's mind reeled as nausea swept through him as he realized that the blond above him wasn't familiar, and he cringed away before things started to come into focus. His breath hitched and he cringed away from the other man as he coughed raggedly, spitting up a bit of blood.

Fuck. This was not good. This was not good at all. Cupping his head with scratched arms, he could feel himself beginning to shake with the reality setting in that he wasn't going to get away from this. Kenny was right; middle of no where rendered no voice able to carry itself over the forest to town. His phone was gone and Kenny didn't have one.

He was fucked.

"Kenny just let me the fuck go. I didn't do anything to you. You did this to yourself," he shot, try to struggle his way down the couch but only resulting in sending his head spinning. He acknowledged the scrapes and scratched down his body, kind of impressed with the lack of damage and only able to thank himself for remembering to slide his seat belt on as he drove off, though he was kind of wishing he'd died now that he was back here.

"Let up. Please. I know you're pissed about being evicted but that's your fault, too, you can't seriously say you've been holding this grudge this long! You can't seriously think that this is okay! I never DID anything to you!" he cried groggily, still sheilding himself with his arms and shivering against the cushion.

Kenny smiled slightly and shook his head, looking over Kyle and shrugging. "You're makin' it sound like I have a terrible life, which I don't. I love how I'm livin'; I love sellin' weed to people and takin' care of this farm. I ain't payin' my bills 'cause I'm fixin' this place up. And you think that I want to pay money to a scrawny little rat bastard like you? You're a fuckin' idiot, Ky, and you need to realize that everything I do, I do for me. That's why I moved so fuckin' far from you guys. So I could do what I wanted. And I'm happy. Are you happy? No. You're bein' raped."

The redneck got up, walking over to the other man and grabbing his hair roughly. Kyle hissed and flinched, wrapping his hands around the firm forearm of the country-goer with his teeth gritted. He twitched his shoulders, trying to override the pain in his head with concentration as blood continued to dribble down his body from all kinds of spontaneous locations that he didn't care to look for at the moment.

"What I wanna know, though, is what kinda sick fuck takes up the responsibility of tellin' his ex-boyfriend that he's gettin' evicted. What the hell did you come out here for? Why didn't you let someone else come? You fuckin' sadist; you probably just wanted to see me break down cryin'. So I guess I gotta teach you a lesson, don't I?"

"I'm out here... because it's. My. Fucking. Job. No one else could come. I planned on leaving quickly. But you stopped me," he assured bitterly, lifting his eyes at last to stare up at Kenny with a level of hatred dwelling in them. He continued to hold onto Kenny's arm, not hesitating to use his nails as he remained perched up on his knees painfully, almost sure at this point that at least one rib was broken from the hurt in his chest.

Trying hard not to vomit, Kyle shut his eyes a moment before speaking up again slowly. "I was happy. I have a fiance and a decent job and nice friends, Kenny. If you are happier in solitude that's your choice," he offered weakly, sinking slightly with his legs giving before snapping back up again with chattering teeth as he stifled a cry from the pain shooting through his skull from the hand in his hair.

"Let me go, I won't press charges, and I won't ever so much as think of you again," he offered with a wavering tone, looking up at him dryly. "I don't want anything to do with you. You hurt me, and that's why I left you. This isn't making me feel any more forgiving."

"Oh just shut the fuck up for once, Kyle. That fuckin' mouth of your's is gonna get you in trouble; hell, I know that I'm gonna have to take care of it right now." Kyle was bleeding all over everything but Ken didn't give a fuck at the moment; his pickup was blocking the only way into the farm. Swamp was all around here, although it was usually frozen this time of year. It was still dangerous as hell, though, and Kenny knew that it'd be some time before anyone even thought of checking out here for the Jew.

Hopefully by that point Kyle would already be dead and disposed of in the cistern.

Ken clucked his tongue, running his fingers down Kyle's chest slowly and pausing over the spot where he could feel the broken rib, jabbing his fingers into the flesh and seeing how much pain he could cause. A dry shriek of pain escaped the scarlet-haired twenty-six year old at the sensation, tears springing to his eyes as he took an accountable few breaths with his shoulders shaking. He felt his skin prickle under Kenny's fingertips despite his own judgment, head clouding from blood loss. Kenny observed, muttering, "I don't give a fuck whether you forgive me or not. I don't care about you. To me you're just a fuckin' realistic sex doll."

Sliding between consciousness and delirium, Kyle swallowed before gripping Kenny's hand in his own and shoving it away weakly with his head bobbing slightly from the pain pounding through his skull.

"S... Stan knows where I am... he'll come for me," he hissed bitterly, eyes staring ahead of him blindly. He brightened slightly by some inward thought, however, as a few things came together in his head.

This was true. Stan knew he was visiting Kenny. In fact, it was Stan's careful analysis of Kenny's accounting records that lead Kyle there in the first place. The ring sitting on the cabinet of his house back home said enough about the completeness of their relationship, but he was more thankful than ever that he'd decided not to wear it to Kenny's. God knew what the blond would do over that. Though his defences didn't end with Stan. He knew people in the force, and that would back him up some as well...

Letting his eyes dance back into focus, he looked back up at Kenny with fear still lingering there. The question was whether Kenny would let him live that long. Feeling his limbs twitching in their fatigued state, he dropped his arms in exhaustion. "You're sick, Ken. You're... really sick. You need help."

Kenny arched an eyebrow, looking at Kyle and grinning as he shoved the redhead back onto the couch, shaking his head affectionately. "You're a fuckin' idiot. You are such a fuckin' idiot. You do realize that this farmhouse is absolutely fuckin' perfect for snipin', right? Just sit upstairs, point your huntin' rifle out one of the windows, and you can shoot whatever you want. Ducks, foxes, deer, people... pretty much anythin'. If Stan gets within a fuckin' mile of this place I'll blow his pretty little head off. I figured you were with him. You were always starin' at him when we were together in high school. That might have been most of the reason why I stole your goddamn money. Maybe if you hadn't had such a wanderin' eye, Kyle... but whatever. That's all said and done. Right now, though..."

Kyle's hopes sunk a bit with each word the other male spoke, feeling a tear dart to his eyes but he swept it away with the back of a bloody hand before Kenny could notice and us that against him further. This was not what he wanted. No, this was definitely the last place on earth he wanted to be. He would rather be with Hitler at the moment at a holocaust tea party in hell, because god damn, Kenny had gotten scary as fuck in the nine years they hadn't seen eachother.

"I knew it. This is all a stupid fucking jealous trip! God dammit Kenny, I can't believe you! I was all your's back then, Stan was my best friend! I had every right to look at him! You were a fucking flirt all over the place and I never doubted you!"

Kenny looked around the living room, moving over to the mantle and ghosting his fingers over it before pulling something down and walking back over to Kyle with it. He grabbed the other's hair, tilting his head back and stick a Colt .45 in Kyle's mouth. "Come on, suck on it. If your boyfriend really does manage to get you out, this won't be too bad, will it?"

Almost gagging on the bitter taste of the metal as it was stuffed in his mouth, Kyle stared up the length of the handgun, shoulders hitching. What in the hell? Not wanting to risk anything with gunpowder already staining his lips, he shut his eyes a moment before beginning the slow start to sucking on the gun with a professionally trained mouth, running his tongue from the base of the trigger along the bridge and keeping his eyes closed tightly.

Kenny watched the redhead, finger dancing over the trigger quickly as he pressed on it lightly, taking a moment to cock the revolver to show that he meant serious business. He spoke, his voice soft but stoic, seductive, almost, as his free hand moved to the front of the other's clothing. He touched the fabric lightly, licking his lips almost frenetically as Kyle sucked on the barrel of the gun. The blonde leaned forward, lips hovering beside Kyle's ear as he drawled, "You don't even know what it's like to have your head blown off, do you? God, it's a weird feelin', Kyle. I wish that I could do it and have you come right on back so we could play some more. But I guess I'll just leave your head on for a while..."

His tongue traced the lobe of the redhead's ear, taking in the taste of the man he hadn't seen in so long, and Kenny chuckled before stroking the trigger of the gun. "Strip for me or I'll take your head off. You don't need to be alive for our games, honey. I ain't picky."

That note on it's own sent terrified chills down Kyle's spine as his mouth was temporarily freed. Flinching at his own subtle movements from the breaks and tears of his own figure, he felt his lip starting to quiver slightly as his eyes darted around him self-consciously, fingers slipping himself out of his jacket and tie. He wrestled with his button-up before shrugging out of it, feeling time passing with what felt like a year to a second as slowly his clothing dropped to his feet article by article, until he remained in no more than his underwear and his socks.

Staring at the gun nervously, and even moreso Kenny's finger working over it, he finally kicked off his socks and boxers, the first tear rolling loose publicly as his breath hitched, a hand easing over his ribs nervously where the blue-black splotch beneath the skin was already fully formed.

"I don't know why you're doing this," he muttered weakly, sliding his eyes shut a moment before staring down the revolver, entire form alive with shivers of concentrated terror.

"Then I guess we're gonna figure that out together, Ky. I don't need a reason for this. I have a gorgeous man show up at my home telling me I'm gonna get evicted, and goddamn it, Kyle, I'm fuckin' takin' advantage of it. I'm gonna tell you one thing, though. My one rule, I guess you can say."

The redneck stood, his free hand sliding to Kyle's ass as he groped it rather roughly, pressing the revolver to the other's chest, just over his heart. Kyle flinched away, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as the cool mouth of the gun pressed against his skin. "You aren't allowed to leave. You follow that one rule and I won't kill you. You can stay here and I'll feed you and bathe you and make sure that you're happy with me. Like a pet."

Kyle took a few shaky breaths through his nose as he listened to Kenny, eyes lowering at the mention of his looks. Where he might have been flattered on a normal occurrence, Kenny's words were no comfort to him under these circumstances, and he felt increasingly dirtier as he stood in the nude, sliding his eyes shut and letting another few silent tears roll forth.

Body twitching at the firm hand on his behind, Kyle lifted his eyes to a half-gaze into the air as he reviewed Kenny's conditions. Where they were less than satisfactory, if it would keep him alive and safe long enough for someone to come and help him, he was willing, and nodded in silence to demonstrate his agreement.

Kenny continued groping the redhead, licking his lips. "Who all have you been with since we broke up, you little whore?"

Feeling his teeth clench slightly, Kyle glared at Kenny and then turned his eyes away slowly. "A few people. It's none of your business," he muttered, keeping one hand situated awkwardly over his groin as some kind of resolve to his exposure while the other gripped the bruise growing on his chest.

"Don't degrade me and I might be a bit more inclined to behave," he added with a nasty glare, still feeling the shake of his own arms.

Kenny smirked, lifting the gun and placing the barrel against Kyle's chin, tilting his head back all the way and kissing the spot over his jugular softly, feeling the pulse of the other's blood through his veins. He literally had Kyle's life in his hand; one squeeze of the trigger and the pretty redhead's brains would be splattered all over the ceiling. Kenny's cut-offs grew tight as he bit down lightly, smiling as he drew a little blood from the redhead's artery. "You're in no position to be tryin' to call the shots, Ky. Last time I checked, you were in a hostage situation. Not tryin' to be rude, but usually victims don't get to negotiate deals."

Ken shoved Kyle to his knees, pressing the gun to the other's forehead and shrugging. "All right, you little slut, I'm pretty sure you know what I want you to do. If you don't, you're enough of a cocksucker to figure it out yourself. Don't even try and call me anything but master. I'm not here to be your friend."

Kyle dropped to the floor, sending a hateful stare up at Kenny as the gun was pressed to the side of his head. He felt his shoulders shift in discomfort as he rose a hand to undo the blond's zipper, tugging his trousers down a bit before he slid a hand in against the blond pubes poking out over the top of his underwear.

Stripping Kenny's pants the rest of the way after massaging the other man's cock to an acceptable hardness, he peeled the undergarments down slowly, feeling the heat of embarrassment in his face as he gave him a few bare-handed strokes, before dipping his lips over the tip slowly. He dabbed his tongue over the head slowly before taking him in all the way, trying to push back the present feelings of disgust writhing at his centre as he gripped Kenny's hips with his hands and started a tight-mouthed bobbing. His cheeks flushed from his inner feelings of discomfort and fury, but Kyle was no where close to putting his life to risk at this point. God forbid that Kenny was bluffing and was going to kill him anyway, but at least it was going to be some time before he did so.

Hope was still high.

Pulling off of the other man's cock with a pop, he let his eyes flicker up at him for a moment before working his tongue around in the way that he knew Kenny liked, or at least what he had back in the day. Whether that was still the same or not he would learn, he supposed, staring at the redneck's treasure trail with a blank level of indignation as he continued.

Kenny used the barrel of the gun to push a lock of hair off of Kyle's face, watching the redhead go down on him with the same skill that he had possessed all those years ago, and it wasn't really surprising that Kyle had retained his abilities to make Kenny so fucking hard. After all, Ken had taught the redhead everything he knew. He ran his free hand through Kyle's hair and then tilted the redhead's head back, a rather threatening smirk crossing his face.

"Should I fuck you or just use my gun? You are damaged goods, man, and with your record, I don't want to get some STD from you... then again, if my gun goes off inside you... hell, babe, that might fuck you up pretty good and I don't want brains all over my carpet."

Kyle kept an undisturbed face as Kenny spoke, but his skin crawled with the idea alone, and he took a few shallow breaths from his core as his eyes followed the gun while it traced his cheek. He swallowed, trying to rid his mouth of Kenny's taste dizzily, expression only flickering at the mention of his own dignity.

"I don't have any STDs, jesus christ. I've been with Stan for five years," he muttered quietly after, feeling his face redden. Maybe bringing up Stan wasn't such a good idea at the moment.

Keeping the gun pressed to Kyle's head, Kenny yanked the redhead to a standing position and grabbed his wrist, dragging him outside. Kyle was on his feet in a moment with a soft cry, swearing loudly as he was dragged outdoors by the arm and letting his free arm encircle his own body as he jumped across the stony path with hot feet from the sharp pains in their bare soles. "You always said you wanted to do it outside, right? Well, now we can, you little slut, and no one's gonna hear you scream."

Wincing as he was slammed up against the side of the house, Kyle shut his eyes tightly, biting his lip and praying that by some means Kenny was going to be at least merciful to his rear with what ever means this rape was going to take place. He could feel the traces of fearful tears prickling at the corners of his eyes again as his cheek pressed against the rough wall of the blond's home.

"I can't believe you, Kenny."

"_'I can't believe you, Kenny.'_ Shut the fuck up, man. What the hell do you mean, you can't believe me?" He slammed the redhead's face against the wall once for good measure, kicking his legs apart so the other man was spread-eagled against the wall. "Guess you never really knew who I was, then. Figured as much; you wouldn't have gone out with me if you had known how completely fucked up I was. There was a lot you didn't know about me, then. Fuck. Oh, well."

"You weren't like this! You'd never have done this to me back then!" Kyle half choked out, tears running anew with his face's connection with the wall and his already bruised and bloody nose starting a new trail down his face.

Kenny pressed the barrel of the gun to Kyle's lips, smirking rather sadistically. "Make sure it's nice and lubed up, Kyle. You wouldn't want your partner to go in dry, would you? Just... imagine it's Stan's dick." He shoved the gun in, probably chipping a few of Kyle's teeth, and arched an eyebrow. "What're you waiting for, you little bitch?"

Kyle's thighs quivered slightly as he sniffled and coughed, gagging abruptly around the mouth of the gun and a new stream of blood beginning a dribble from the corner of his mouth as he obediently began to suck on the barrel of the pistol amongst fearful sobs.

_He's going to kill me. He's going to kill me no matter what._

Shutting his eyes, he tried to imagine himself in a better position, but the pain from every angle over ruled any possible aspect of putting himself in a fantasy. Stan would never do this to him, and he knew it; shit, not even Craig would have gone this far when they'd dated and Craig was as rough of a son of a bitch between the sheets as he was on a normal day.

He sucked on the gun as well as he could, ensuring its proper coating of saliva and not even bothering to stifle his crying anymore as he did so, fear replacing any idea of confidence he might have had prior.

Kenny had always loved it when other people cried. Maybe it was the fact that someone else was hurting instead of him. Whatever it was, it made him feel happier when he wasn't the one suffering. He wanted Kyle to feel all the pain that Kenny felt daily, the pain of having a person you loved betray you, not listen to your explanations... the pain of severing ties with everyone and moving away into isolation... there was a lot of pain that Kyle had never ever even begun to feel. Kenny was going to change all of that.

The redneck watched Kyle choke and gag on the cold metal of the gun, bleeding and crying and looking a mess, and he grit his teeth, scratching at the stubble on his face and reminding himself that he needed to shave, not because of how he looked but because it itched. Kenny finally pulled the gun out of Kyle's mouth and examined it interestedly before looking at the green-eyed man in front of him. He smirked and moved his hand, running the mouth of the gun over Kyle's ass slowly before barely pressing the tip of it into the redhead, still smiling. "Fuckin' perfect lover for you, huh? No emotions, like you, cold as ice, like you, doesn't give a fuck who he hurts or tears up in the process. Exactly fuckin' like you, Kyle Broflovski."

He shoved the weapon into his former lover roughly, gripping Kyle's hair as he kept him pinned to the side of the house, starting to move the Colt in a crude mockery of sex and not really caring what kind of damage he did. "How's it feel?"

Kyle's mind reeled from the sharp pain of the metal scraping against his insides, a hoarse cry escaping him as his fingernails bit into the wall of the house, only drawing more blood. Over all, however, the panic within him was mostly struck around the idea of the gun going off, and with no firearm being specifically safe even in its safest state, the red head was in hysterics.

For Kyle it was impossible to wrap his mind around his situation, his head completely off centre with the prospect of how three hours ago he had been laying in the safer arms of his fiance instead of being pinned against a wall by his now crazy ex boyfriend of almost nine years.

Blood and tears staining the front of his body, he could already feel the warmth of his own life's fluid running from his behind down his thighs as Kenny fucked him with the pistol mercilessly. This left Kyle a shaking crying mess against the wall of the house, red smearing against the stone as his hips were ground raw from the thrusts of the gun with his body making continuous contact with the wall as he wept harder.

If anyone had told Kenny an hour before that he was going to be raping and humiliating his ex, he wouldn't have believed them. The luck of that situation was far too great for someone as miserable as him. The encounter happening at the moment was perhaps the greatest moment of Kenny McCormick's life. If he did, by some chance, let Kyle live, he was fairly certain the redhead would be too damaged to want to get in any sort of relationship with another person. Kenny was going to fuck him up.

"FUCK - Kenny, please, stop - STOP! -"

Kenny fucked him with the gun for a little while longer and then pulled the weapon out, letting the bleeding, sniveling man that had been so proud maybe thirty minutes before drop to the ground. Kyle flinched away from the blond immediately as he was dropped. Kenny toed Kyle's body in interest before crouching down and speaking softly. "I guess I'll show you your new home; it's not all that nice because I haven't had time to clean it up but it'll be all right. I'll feed you just enough to get you by and make sure we play lots of games."

Shielding his form desperately as he hollowly listened to Kenny's words with a hand tenderly resting on a cheek of his own rear. He'd mostly lapsed into silent tears by that point, completely taken by the effects of shock.

He chuckled, running a hand over Kyle's chest. "Maybe I'll even tell you a story or two. How does that sound, mm? I'll tell you the story of where the money went, and what happened afterwards. It's a pretty good story, I think. You might like it. Both sides of the story."

Kenny hefted Kyle to his feet, looking at him steadily. "You think you can stand okay?"

Kyle had parted his lips slightly, listening but not seeing as Kenny explained the time they were going to be having together before a sense of vertigo carried him upward and he staggered dizzily, legs giving away immediately with a soft cry as he shied away from Kenny in order to use the blood-stained wall for support instead.

Panting uneasily for breath, he slid his eyes shut before standing slowly, not providing Kenny with so much as a glance as he managed to stand upright with every limb trembling.

Kyle licked his lips slowly, feeling surreal as he mentally reached for some kind of stability, teetering slightly before he seemed for the most part balanced and standing in place in silence as he awaited further instruction.

Kenny studied his blood and gore-covered Colt, knowing that the metal sight at the end of the barrel had most likely torn Kyle to shreds down below. He wouldn't be good for a fuck for a few days, at least, but Kenny didn't really care. He was just happy that he had someone on the farm with him and that the someone was the one person he loved more than anything. Despite all he did to Kyle, the redhead was always on his mind and he did truly love him. He didn't care about the other man, but he certainly loved him.

The blonde looked at Kyle and then walked into the house. Kyle honestly thought about trying to take off when Kenny went into the house, but weighing out his options and the fact that he could barely stand nevermind run was rendering him a scarecrow on Kenny's front lawn. The redneck returning a second later with a bungee cord and wrapped it around Kyle's wrists only to tug on it slightly, pulling him across the property and walking him to the cistern against the far fence. Kyle didn't move or protest as his wrists were laced together with the elastic material of the bungee cord, staring at the cistern with widening eyes.

Kenny pulled open the rusted metal door of the water closet, shoving Kyle inside and flicking on the one light in the abandoned structure. There was no way... no, apparently there was a way because a moment layer Kyle was a limp pile on the stone floor of the abandoned water collector, a spider or two diving away from him in a route of escape as he let his head thunk against the cool floor. He spoke, leaning in the doorway and looking at the bloody redhead. "You wanna hear my story?"

He rose his eyes to Kenny dully at last, briefly distracted by the fact that the other male was still standing there pantless and with an erection. Letting his eyes slide away, at least thankful that he wasn't having his still raw behind fucked either way, he didn't reply to Kenny's question. A dying animal might not have laid more still as he stared at the dusty innards of the cistern, breathing slightly laboured and pained from his broken rib; he assumed somehow that Kenny would be telling him no matter what his reply was.

Kenny walked over to his victim; the redhead already looked broken. Ken crouched down beside Kyle, brushing some hair off the redhead's face almost affectionately before starting to speak in his low drawl, a threat of violence lingering even as he ghosted his fingers over the other's pale skin. "I took out fifteen hundred dollars from your bank account and put it in mine because yours was frozen that week. That weekend was our two year anniversary and I had already bought plane tickets to Massachusetts so we could head there, get legally married, and come back to Colorado."

The blonde laughed like this was the stupidest thing he had ever contemplated doing and shook his head, leaning back a little bit. "I was going to tell you why I moved the money but you freaked out before I could, found the weed I had bought off Craig for ten bucks, and figured I had embezzled your money for my addiction. So I get busted for fucking bank fraud, and then possession with the intent to sell, and then prostitution."

Kenny's smile dropped and he stood back up, kicking Kyle in the chest. "So for wanting to marry you, I got four years of jail. Awesome trade-off, right?"

Kyle had patiently listened to his story in silence, eyes glazing over slightly. His eyes were unseeing though he was attentive, writing his own imagery from his memory in his head. His eyes only snapped back into focus when the topic of marriage was brought up, and, rolling onto his side he glared at Kenny.

"You're... so fucking stupid!" he shouted finally, anger pouring out of the redhead over everything. "You are... the most incredibly stupid person alive! Why wouldn't you just tell me about something like that, Kenny? I loved you! I fucking LOVED YOU!" he screeched, though the kick to the chest silenced him briefly as his tears fell anew. He seized slightly before heaving from the pain in his ribs, rolling onto his back uncomfortably and looking slightly broken with his back arched up off of the floor and legs curled under him in what could have been a sexual-looking pose if not for his damages.

Gurgling on a little blood for a moment and spitting it to the side as his chest heaved, he let his eyelids flutter from the light-headed high of his blood loss, peering through the dark of his prison with quivering limbs.

"Playing the victim... unsurprising... it's always about Kenny," he laughed hollowly, "Kenny this, Kenny that. If Kenny ain't happy aint' nobody happy, and all that shit. So you robbed me of my money to steal me away and marry me... and what would you have done if I hadn't been ready, huh? Probably what you're doing to me right now," his voice cracked, uncoiling his legs to curl up weakly on his side in order to cry into his palms.

"We were seventeen, Ken. Seventeen! You're so reckless and so impatient..." his voice broke off as he wretched slightly, only proceeding to choke up more blood onto the cistern's stone floor before falling still and crying quietly into his own shoulder. "You don't know me at all. You never knew me. You never bothered, because you're so selfish. And when you don't get your way, you try to flip it around so it's the other person's fault. Well it's NOT my fault! You made a bad choice. If you loved me enough to marry me you could have had the heart to give me some WARNING about it!"

He sent a piercing glare up at his captor a moment before curling up into an even tighter ball as he began to sob pitifully in ragged chokes. He hiccupped and shook his head nonsensically, only high-pitched squeaks of despair leaking from his already whithered form.

Kenny stared at the redhead on the floor, arching an eyebrow; he wasn't sure what reaction he had expected out of the other man but a mini-seizure was certainly not it. Kenny moved over, pressing Kyle back down on the cement floor of the cistern with a hand on the redhead's chest. He surveyed Kyle for a good little while and then smirked, shrugging. "Yep. It is all about me now. Which is why I now pretty much own you. It's all about me and my happiness, and my happiness rests entirely in you keeping me nice and pleased."

He ran his hand down to the other's bloody ass and he slid a finger in, not caring how badly he ended up hurting Kyle. The redneck spoke, voice soft. "Even if they show up here they won't find you. You're a fuckin idiot if you think I'm going to let you go now..."

Kenny lifted Kyle then, slamming into him roughly and again, not giving a shit if he killed the other man. "You better hope it ain't Stan who comes lookin' because I'll pop that head off like a cap off a beer."

Kyle had half a mind to vomit but before he knew it he was being slammed down against the stone floor, stars dancing across his vision for a moment before it went white from pain as Kenny fucked his marred ass, arching off of the floor painfully and attempting to throw a few fists to no effect.

"NO - STOP! STOP - STOP! KENNY! STOP -"

A scream escalated from his vocal chords as he was slammed into brutally, arms flying above his head as he was throw into mercilessly. His shrieks of pain and pleas continued, blood pooling beneath them as he thunked his head back against the concrete and fell quiet after some time as his mind drifted off completely, totally lost some where before his eyes rolled a bit.

Kyle lost consciousness entirely.

Kenny fucked the redhead until he finally came, leaving the other man a bloody, fucked-up mess on the ground. Without bothering to let his binds free, Kenny left Kyle tied up on the floor of the cistern, flicking the lights off as he left and leaving the water tank pitch black. He left the property, going to clean up the car accident and make sure that there was no evidence.

The redneck was looking forward to the time he was going to spend with his brand new pet.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chapter 3. Enter Craig's gang.**

**For those curious, ketaminemethanol was responsible for writing the parts of Kyle, Tweek, Token and Stan. K-Squared was responsible for writing Kenny, Clyde, Craig, and Thomas. There are even more characters to be divvied up on later but that will come in time.**

**For now, enjoy the update.**

**edit: there was a big inconsistency, it's fixed now. sorry folks.  
**

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"He was supposed to call you an hour ago? That's not exactly 'missing person' worthy. We have to wait twenty-four hours until we can call them 'missing'." Craig Tucker eyed the man across the table from him, his gaze barely lifting from his nails as he sneered patronizingly at his former classmate, also known as the guy who had managed to jack his last long-term boyfriend from him. Craig hated Stan Marsh; then again, he hated most people. But he hated Stan more than anyone right now, simply because of how worried he looked. Knowing Kyle, the redhead was probably off banging someone else as they spoke.

Craig stood up, looking at Stan and then glancing at his partner on the force, Tweek Tweak. "If Kyle's still missing tomorrow, stop on by. He probably just left you, though, so I wouldn't be too worried."

Stan frowned, fidgeting with his cell phone on the table in silence. "Craig, you just don't get it. He's a _tax collector_. They don't turn off Blackberry Messenger. _Ever_. I'd know. I'm an accountant," he added without a bat of an eyelash. It was true; businessmen carried their pride in their cellphones. And the fact that Kyle stopped responding without saying bye on its own was suspicious.

"He was at Kenny McCormick's shit hole of a barn, Craig. You know how pissed Kenny was over the whole jail ordeal. And now Kyle's not replying after talking to the freak," he said quietly. "He had a vendetta against Kyle. Remember?"

Leaning back in his chair, Stan crossed his arms. He understood that they weren't on the best of terms but he was hoping that maybe the part of him that wasn't hating Stan for stealing Kyle away was maybe still in love with Kyle enough to take this case early.

"He has a point, Craig. Kenny has been through a few lawsuits since that one time in high school... a few criminal offences. And one time he was taken into court for accused rape but there was no proof and he was released free of consequence."

Stan rose an eyebrow at Tweek, questioning his readiness to take this, though it was at that moment that an African man in blue strolled into the office, tilting back his sunglasses and reviewing the familiar faces curtly before inching on eyebrow up slightly. "Do we finally have something to do in this buttfuck boring town? Please tell me we do," he droned, looking at Craig slowly.

Craig massaged his temples, a move appropriated from the ravenette sitting across from him, and only lifted his head when Token walked in the door. Craig glared at the black man, shaking his head and growling lowly. "Token, I swear to god, next time you come strolling in this office like you own it and I see you wearing sunglasses inside the building like some kind of douchebag, I'm going to break your fucking neck."

Craig snapped his gaze back to Stan and spoke, his voice tense. "I legally cannot do anything until twenty-four hours has passed or we have sufficient proof that there has been a struggle or a kidnapping or anything like that. Dude, I'm sorry, but..."

He paused and then laughed dryly, rolling up his sleeves. "No, never mind, I'm not sorry. Kenny was always the best looking out of any of us and you know what probably happened? Kyle gets out there, sees that Kenny's tan, that he's eating well, that he's hotter than ever, and then Ky realizes that he gave up dating the hottest guy in South Park for an accountant. And then he probably dropped his pants and now they're fucking in a feed trough. That sounds like the most logical explanation, because your boyfriend is a goddamn _whore_."

Tweek was doing entirely unwell with his jumps and twitches as Craig started yelling at the other gentlemen in the room, at least glad that the yelling wasn't directed at himself. Token, however, just rolled his eyes and slid his sunglasses back on lazily, probably more so out of smite as he glanced back at Craig, stealing his trademark by flipping him off behind his back.

Stan watched with silent disinterest before turning back to Craig and giving him a long faced stare, sighing through his nostrils and raising a finger to pinch the bridge of his nose in silent irritation.

"Craig. He's my fiance. Alright? Cut me some slack here. If you had a fiance, you would be a bit miffed as well. And besides, for someone who hangs out with him so much, you sure don't seem to care."

Craig ran a hand through his dark hair, looking around the room in time to see two more cops show up; Token's partner Clyde and his own partner Thomas. Thomas pushed past Token and walked over to Craig, looking up at the much taller man and running a hand through his dirty blond hair. "Barbrady says that we have to at least go and see that nothing happened. SHIT! With Kenny's criminal record, we can't be sure. So who are you gonna -F-FUCK- send?"

Craig looked over at Tweek, who was looking jittery as always, and then at Token and Clyde, the latter of who was scratching paint off the doorjam. He groaned and let his eyes slip shut for a moment before snapping his fingers. "Hey. Forrest. Bubba. Why don't you two fucktards take a patrol car and head out to McCormick's farm. I'm sure it's fucking unnecessary and a waste of gas but whatever." Clyde gave him a blank look and Craig lifted his middle finger, snapping at the brunette angrily. "Move!" Clyde grabbed Token's arm and tugged him towards the parking lot, glancing over his shoulder on his way out the door. Craig looked at the other men in the room and then found his eyes back on Stan. "Why are you so worried? Hell, I wouldn't blame him if he left you. You should be happy if he did."

Tweek instantly glanced at Craig then. There was no mystery that there would be tension brewing even deeper between the two dark-haired gentlemen, and the jittery blond offered a nervous glance to Thomas as he shakily retrieved his papers back into their folder. Stan rose his chin slightly, before biting his lip and shaking out the fire that was brewing between them already and leaning calmly across the table.

"Listen... Detective," he added, shaking his head a bit and continuing. "You know even better than I do that he can't shut his mouth for more than five minutes without losing his mind. He's too opinionated for that. And the fact that his ending statement to me was 'he looks like a Hobbit' does not register as something that Kyle would end a conversation with without some long, elaborate explanation."

"You're obviously doing it wrong if you can't get him to shut his mouth for more than five minutes." Craig slumped down in his chair, leaning back a little bit and letting his eyes flicker over everyone still left in the room. He looked at Tweek for a long moment, then Thomas, then looked back at the man across from him disapprovingly.

Leaning back slowly, Stan glanced at Tweek and Thomas a moment before sifting a hand back through his hair nervously. Tweek continued to stare at Craig, looking ready to jump at him if he tried to launch across the table at Stan. They may have been co-workers for a number of years but there was no mistaking that they had been best friends since they were kids. Tweek was aware of every nitty gritty detail of the Craig-Kyle-Stan situation. Kyle kept ties with Craig to keep peace and not have the man calling his phone every ten minutes. Craig kept ties with Kyle because he wanted him back - even after five years.

Craig hated Stan Marsh.

God, did he fucking hate him.

If it weren't for Stan Marsh, Craig would still be with Kyle and he would still be at least mildly happy and at least okay with the life he was living. But no. He had come home one day to Kyle with his pants down and Stan Marsh sucking him off. That was a big 'no-no' on Craig's list of what his boyfriend should do while Craig was off investigating murders, and now here they were and the fucking irresponsible idiot across from him had somehow misplaced the only thing that Craig cared about in the world.

Craig put on a smile, leaning on the table and looking Stan in the eyes as he stood up slowly. "I am almost one hundred percent that the bitch is cheating on you, Stan. The other point two percent of me says that his phone died, but knowing him, he'd promptly suck someone's cock to get in contact with you. So either way, he's probably got the taste of someone else's cum in his mouth. I know you've got faith in him or whatever but Stan, what you're doing here is wasting our time. I'm not worried about him because I know he's a whore and I know that now matter how much you trust him, he's probably sleeping with someone else."

Stan stared at Craig with a line of irritation marking his forehead, seeming entirely collected about the ordeal. Fact of the matter was that Stan was 100% certain Kyle wasn't, and never had, cheated on him. After all, Kyle had dumped Craig for Stan himself. The red head was so taken with the accountant that the idea of him being with someone else was almost laughable to Stan.

Effectively, he rested his cheek in his hand in order to specifically show off the ring on his wedding finger, even if he was letting it off as simply a natural and casual gesture. His eyes found a place of thanks in Thomas as the dishwater blond defended him, before he turned to stare at Craig again with a dignified look about him. He wasn't offended; he didn't care what Craig had to say, because Craig had already lost. It was Stan fucking Kyle's beautiful brains out every night, not Craig. Stan won five years ago when Kyle dropped the other black-haired male like a hot coal for Mister Marsh.

He watched the twenty-seven year old pull his cellphone out of his pocket as it vibrated. Craig licked his lips absently before locking his dark blue eyes back on Stan. "What the fuck are you still here for? We can't do anything for you. We sent Token and Clyde out there and that's all we can do until he's been gone for a while. Then we can launch a formal investigation and find him in, god forbid, Peru, with some other man."

Tweek grimaced slightly and looked at Thom, his eye twitching slightly before he slid back in his chair. "I'll... I - I can, uh.. I'm not sure what to do," he finally whispered, dropping his head slightly.

Thomas spoke up, his voice terse. "That's enough, Detective Tucker. I understand that you're -BITCH- close to the victim but defaming his fiance is uncalled for. Do it again and I'll -SHIT- write you up." Thomas glared at his partner, licking his lips almost frenetically as he shook his head. Craig's obsession, because that's all it was, with Kyle was unhealthy. The detective needed to find a good man, like himself or Tweek, or maybe even both. The gray-eyed blond turned his eyes to the twitchy boy and nodded in agreement with himself as a curse fell from his lips. He certainly wouldn't mind.

Stan rolled his eyes. "I'm not leaving until I find out where the hell my fiance is. It's been one hour since he was supposed to call me, but I know it's been _hours_ since he went missing. I want a search party out the second it's legally possible. Because something is wrong," he concluded firmly. "I know it is. It's just not right at all, alright? I've known Kyle since before we could walk. I'm pretty sure I have enough intuition to know when something is up. He wouldn't cheat on me. There's no one he loves more than me, so I don't have to worry about that," he added indirectly, glancing at Craig before finally standing up slowly in order to head back to the lobby of the police station.

Craig kept his jaw clenched and his fists balled as Stan left the room, staring after the other man with a look of intense hatred while Tweek glanced at Thomas, giving him a look of thanks before looking confused at his random nodding, assuming it to be part of a tick. Tweek let his mind wander as he fell silent until the door finally closed, knitting his hands in his lap in silence as he kept his place between Thomas and Craig.

"... You really think he's just cheating on Stan, Craig? GAH - I mean, they seem pretty happy, I think... I don't know, I... Kenny... Kenny is just..."

The blond fell quiet once more, looking slightly hollowed out as he glanced down at the papers in their folder on the table. He fidgeted with them a moment, leafing through them and then placing each of the rap sheets out on the table in order. His eyes stayed to the accusative rape for a long moment before glancing at Craig slowly.

"Kenny... Kenny's pretty crazy these days."

The only thing that saved Craig from going after the accountant and putting his fist through Stan Marsh's snide-ass head was Tweek's words and the totally empty look in the blond boy's eyes.

Craig remembered that case better than anything, and he knew the effect it had on everyone involved, including himself. It was the reason he and Kenny McCormick were no longer on speaking terms. The dark-haired man walked over to his best friend, running a hand through Tweek's hair and tilting the blonde's head back a little bit, biting his lower lip. "Tweek. Babe, don't... I know he's insane. And if he has anything to do with this in the least... I'll kill him. I'll kill him for hurting you, and I'll kill him for hurting Kyle... I take care of my boys, Tweek, and as far as I'm concerned, you're one of them. You too, Thom."

Craig took a step back, shaking his head. "Kenny isn't going to hurt you guys, okay? I'll make sure of it." Craig offered up a rare smile, petting Tweek's hair affectionately before glancing at his watch. "It's about lunch time... you guys want to go get some with me?"

Tweek nodded slightly at the suggestion, stringing his fingers together nervously before smiling up between Craig and Thom and standing, leaving the paper on the table to be reviewed if Token and Clyde returned with any news.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for the feedback in reviews, guys! It's all much appreciated. Never hesitate to PM us with questions if you have them, we'll answer to the best of our ability. Sorry for the update delay, and enjoy part four.**

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"He's always on his period or somethin', man, I swear."

Climbing into the driver's seat of their cruiser after promptly stealing the keys from Clyde, Token shook his head as his partner spoke, buckling up and twisting the keys in the ignition with a lazy crack of the neck as Clyde got in beside him.

"Craig's just a lonely little bitch, Clyde. Can't accept the fact that he got his ass beat in love by a stupid accountant," he stated matter-of-factly, as though the entire thing was some deep insight. Which, to Clyde, it probably would be, considering he was dumb as bricks, but Token wasn't about to tell him that.

Clyde shrugged from the passenger seat of the cruiser, tapping his fingers against the armrest thoughtfully. The drive was extensive and kind of borderline creepy, being that there wasn't a breath's notice of a person for at least ten minutes before the McCormick farm was reachable. He was quiet for most of the drive out to the property, thinking about Token's words carefully. Craig was lonely, which made him an asshole. But Clyde was pretty lonely most of the time, too, and as far as he was concerned, he was the nicest guy around.

The brunette chewed on his lower lip, watching scenery pass by the car as he let himself sink deeper into his own thoughts, which was a really, really bad thing considering the fact that Clyde Donovan was a man of nearly no critical thinking skills. He fidgeted in his seat and when they finally approached the main driveway of the McCormick farm in their cruiser. Token eyed the surroundings carefully as they both got out of the car, stretching slightly and then walking around the vehicle in order to head up to the door.

The entire atmosphere held something that was unsettling even if it was just withering foliage and unharvested corn field. Popping a stick of gum into his mouth, Token offered one to Clyde as they approached the front step of Kenny's home. Proportionately, although a bit dilapidated in places, it looked entirely like a normal farm. Some paint peeled here and there and a few imperfections including a broken wind vane and the like threw its appearance off, but nothing seemed particular suspicious. The walls were clean and the front yard was spotless. Nodding to Clyde, Token pulled his badge from his breast pocket and knocked on the door, waiting patiently. Clyde stood next to his best friend of the last twenty years or so, licking his lips every so often as they waited for Kenny to answer the door.

Instead, the blonde strolled around the side of the house, wearing a pair of jeans and a clean tank top, evidence of any crime nowhere visible on his body. Kenny looked up when he noticed the cops, leaning against the brick and grinning at both Clyde and Token charismatically. "Hey, guys. Shoot, haven't seen the both of y'all in quite a few years." Kenny walked over to them and grabbed Token's hand first before ruffling Clyde's hair affectionately. "What the hell brings you two over here? I don't never get visitors."

Clyde spoke, his voice light and pleasant. "We're here to see if you've seen Kyle recently. He was supposed to stop by here to tell you you got evicted but we can't get a hold of him."

Kenny feigned thinking for a moment, biting his lower lip convincingly. "Hell, guys, I haven't seen him since I got outta jail. But if he's seriously missin'... I'll keep my eyes open. You checked the swamps around here? Couple people take wrong turns every damn year and I end up havin' to haul their asses out or they just die in there. You might wanna check. Sorry you had to drive all the way out here for no reason. You guys should probably get back, though; I know how busy law enforcement is."

Token honestly laughed at Kenny's finishing statement. Law enforcement? Busy? He had to be joking. Fall rendered all the hoodlums going back to school, and the streets were clear and dry of any trouble for the most part, aside from an occasional after school special involving something stupid like graffiti.

"Actually, we were just gonna take a look around to make sure before we take you up on the pond-hunting offer. Hope you don't mind or nothing," Token offered with a nod to him, and then glanced at Clyde at his side. He took note of Kenny's reactions, pegging down some statements on his note pad before staring around at the front of the house. The tidiness of the front lawn was unsuspected for a man who lived on his own with a whole crop to attend to, but it wasn't outside of the usual. With no one to talk to by nature it seemed at least natural for things to be orderly, at least to Token. He glanced at the wall beside the door thoughtfully.

"Looks like you've been busy here, huh? New paint, squeaky clean. Could use a shave though," he teased as he stepped off of the porch, moving along the property toward the barn. "You sure you haven't heard anything, Ken? He's already got a missing persons report from the office from his fiance. Says he was talking to Kyle while he was here, but we don't have records from the phone yet. Just askin'."

Kenny scratched at his stubble, laughing slightly and leading the two officers to the barn, pushing the door open. His horse started a bit, whinnying, and Kenny stroked the animal's nose comfortingly before shaking his head at Token.

"Honestly, Toke, I haven't seen Kyle in years. You know we weren't on good terms when we broke up; if he were here, you'd know. I don't have any reason to lie to you guys." The blonde shrugged, running his tongue over his teeth, and looked around, confident that he had cleaned all evidence up. The corvette had been pushed into the swamp, Kyle's Blackberry had followed it, and the redhead's clothes and everything else had been properly destroyed. The redneck was efficient as anything, especially when Kyle was on the line.

Clyde looked around the property with some interest before his eyes fell on the rusting and abandoned water cistern on the edge of the property. He had seen enough horror movies to know that when something looked that dilapidated it was most likely where the person would be. Barely moving his arm, Clyde pinched Token's wrist, eyes flickering to the cistern and then back to his friend. He knew Token had gotten the meaning of his movements; they were partners on the force for the mere fact that they were best friends outside the job. Nobody got each other more than Token and Clyde; they could practically communicate telepathically on most days. Token shared the look with a slow acknowledgement, but nodded toward the corn field as a means of telling him that that would be where they would be going first. The black man adjusted the collar of his uniform as they approached; there were so many places to hide things on a farm it was almost impossible to even imagine in one short visit.

"We know, Ken. You're a nice guy. But it's procedure to look around," he replied at last with a nod. Coming through to the opposite end of the field where the clearing and the fire pit lay, Token leaned over slightly to examine it with interest. Freshly used, it seemed, and he jotted these notes down, eyes scanning the contents of the dust. His eyes caught something shiny, and he pulled the paperclip-like piece of metal out of the dust with minimal interest, before flicking it back into the dust with a shrug. Probably from old paperwork and the like.

At last, however, he turned his attention to the cistern with Clyde at his side. Observing it a moment to take in its details, he turned to Kenny finally with a nod. "Quite an old model you got here, huh?" he asked, jotting down a few notes. "Doubt it's in use anymore. Storage inside?"

Kenny nodded, licking his lips and glancing at the cistern nonchalantly. "Yeah, I got, uh... I think my old tractor is in there and maybe a couple rabbit traps, probably the bit and saddle for Lucky... I'm pretty sure I got the old engine to my pickup there, too. It's pretty damn useless as anything but a shed, y'know? Even when it was workin' it was just bad water." The blonde laughed slightly and shook his head, scratching his neck again.

Clyde eyed the cistern and spoke, keeping up the pleasant facade. "Can I take a look? I've never seen the inside of one of those things, man. Hell, I don't think I've ever even been on a farm."

Kenny nodded, pushing open the rusted door and flicking on the light in the middle of the room. It swung back and forth a little bit, reflecting off the water pooled on the floor of the old water tank. The redneck smiled slightly at Clyde, who looked around inside in interest before gesturing to the floor. "S'there usually standing water like that? I mean... it's gotta leak. The roof looks rusted."

Ken licked his lips, glancing at the ceiling. "Yeah, it leaks a lot... it's also built on a swamp so we get the run-off from that."

Clyde shrugged, stepping back out of the cistern and looking at his partner. "Everything looks good out here, Toke, and we can't look in his house without a warrant... I think we're gonna have to head back."

Token nodded at the descriptions and reasons offered, staring around for anything out of place but finding none. Resting his hands on his hips as they exited the cistern he tipped his hat slowly to Kenny in a dutiful manner before making the trek across the lawn with Clyde at his side.

"Take care then, Ken. Thanks for your time."

With a door slamming shut on either side of the cruiser, Token buckled himself in before starting the engine and making the drive down the road. Allowing a good ten minutes to pass, Token glanced to Clyde finally, checking his rear view mirror before speaking up.

"I dunno, Clyde. I just don't know."

Clyde bit his cheek, looking at Token with a disturbed expression. "Toke, he's not right in the head. I know I'm stupid as fuck but hell, man, you could tell, couldn't you? He was too polite, too nice... like fucking Hills Have Eyes or something."

Token nodded in agreement to his partner's statements, taking the exit that would take them back to the station with an unsettling feeling. "Polite is right... too polite for someone who's been living alone for years. Too calm and expectant for someone who hasn't had company... didn't even bat a fuckin' eyelash when you told him he was getting evicted."

Clyde shook his head, licking his lips and looking at Token absently before leaning over and squeezing his best friend's thigh. "I really, really hope that Kyle's just cheating on Stan, Toke... I dunno how anyone will take it if he's dead. Like... Stan'll break and Craig'll probably kick someone's ass."

The black man sucked on his teeth a bit as they breached the mountains, the sky overcast and sickly looking. Frowning, Token hoped the snow or rain held out until the next day. He had a hunch there would be an investigation going, and it would do no good if tracks were covered. His mind kept flicking back to the paperclip from the fire pit, and he adjusted his mirrors again as they drove along in silence.

Clyde settled back in his seat, running a hand through his hair and eyeing the black man. He and Token had been best friends since their first day of preschool; they just got each other perfectly and Clyde couldn't imagine how much lonelier he'd be without the other man. He swallowed uncertainly and then spoke, his voice cracking a little. "If... if Kyle's okay, will you go on a date with me tomorrow night? We have it off and I figured maybe it'd be fun..."

Token blinked and turned his head slightly at Clyde's question, raising a slow eyebrow as he observed the other man in the car slowly. Naturally relationships between co-workers at any industry or workplace was not suggested and generally not allowed. He took another long look at his partner though before smiling a bit and nodding solemnly, averting his eyes back to the road as the station came into view.

"Yeah. That sounds good to me, Clyde."

Clyde grinned as he got an agreement from his best friend, running his tongue over his teeth and looking out at the sky. The clouds may have been as ominous as hell, but Clyde could only hope that everything worked out for the better.

Both officers went blissfully unaware to the fact that Kenny declined to mention the fact that he had taken a hose to the interior of the cistern to clean up the blood of the redhead currently shoved in the water softener in the far corner of the tank, bound, gagged and unable to move.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Next bit. Huzzah. Enjoy.**

**---**

_Reality was a distant thing, desensitized by the eternal dark._

_At the moment his hands were sifting through the fine hair of his cat at home, and Kyle was sitting with the appreciative ginger tabby on his lap while he watched the television. The world was a close thing, but touch and sound varied, things occasionally becoming vary loud and then very quiet again. The television's images were distorted and incomprehensible and Kyle tried to make sense of them but couldn't. The hand he was stroking his cat with made a strange sound effect each time, much like someone ripping a strip of masking tape._

_Stan ghosted by him, although he was not Stan anymore. Simply a shell of a person, unrecognizable. If Kyle had been shown a picture on a normal basis he would never have recognized him as he walked through the dark living room._

_The off shade of grey on the walls made him stand and his cat tumbled to the floor, no longer a living thing but a stuffed animal. Kicking it aside, his voice rose loud above everything else._

_"Who's here?"_

_Fingers crept around the corner of the door and slowly a few locks of blond stuck around the corner. Kyle watched, the person's face following at a snail pace. He stood for an eternity as the person stared at him, only those curled fingers and half of a visage visible. The eye was big, bright and blue, genetically fitting to someone with such fair hair._

_Kyle drew away from it. He touched the walls, meaning to run through the house and using them as his guide through his world of grey. Around each corner the face emerged until Kyle came to a stop at the end of a hallway. The doors melted away. Eyes peered at him from awkward angles; blue, blue, blue. He touched his own lips self-consciously at his home's collapse, praying that something with black hair might emerge to rescue him from the plush dark carpets below. He huddled into a ball on the ground as his clothes peeled away like the wallpaper on the walls, his world turning to black._

_He opened his eyes to dark dampness, bound and gagged, and wondered if he was still dreaming._

---

A week.

A whole week had passed since Kenny had gotten away with kidnapping the Jewish boy currently living in the comfort of the cistern. Already a profound change had come over the redhead and he was warming up to Kenny... the blond was happy with who Kyle was becoming. It was fantastic.

The redneck made his way out to the cistern with a plate of food for the man he had taken as a sex slave, pushing the door open once he got there and looking at Kyle with a bright smile on his face. The other man was tied up to the point where he couldn't leave the water tank but could move around within the confines of his rusty prison if he so desired.

Kyle blinked up as the leak of light eased into the cistern, pupils fully dilated from their present fit to the darkness he had grown accustom to living in.

Days had sloshed together, his time spent mostly sleeping if there was no one there to speak to, which was typically always except for the occasion that Kenny appeared to say hello. This had become something that Kyle had started to look forward to in contrast to the loneliness experienced within the painful darkness of his prison. His waking hours were spent crying quietly or making hopeful attempts at catching someone's attention for some company, though Kenny was his only visitor.

Stockholm Syndrome was already taking its exclusive effects.

Kenny spoke, his voice friendly enough as he gave Kyle the food. "Hey, Kyle, how're you feeling today?"

Shifting toward the blond as he entered with his day's rations, the red head eyed the platter with interest. He nibbled at his own thumbs, fully prepared for a meal but still not at enough of a trusting level to believe it was for himself too quickly. Kenny didn't like when Kyle was too direct, and the better way of doing things was becoming to just stay quiet about offerings until Kenny made them.

"Tired," he offered, moving closer to the blond involuntarily as he leaned up against him. He held his own arms, weight having dropped significantly since his first day. Bruises marred him all over, and he chilled from the cold, a cough on his breath suggesting some kind of coming illness, but he seemed indifferent all the same.

Taking his meal hesitantly at last, Kyle took a few bites with his closeness to Kenny maintained, glancing up at him nervously now and again and staring occasionally at the door as he ate with still-shaky limbs, something in the resemblance of Tweek Tweak on a good day.

"Kenny... will you take me outside today? You promised last time but then you were busy..." he asked, growing more comfortable with the other man by the moment as he nibbled on a bun calmly, staring around the stone fixture with a blandness to his gaze.

Kenny wrapped an arm around the redhead's shoulder lightly, fingers tracing a bruise on the other man's pale arm. He spoke, his voice soft as he kissed Kyle's cheek lightly. "I don't know if going outside is such a good idea, Kyle... I've got to tend to the fields and feed Lucky. Maybe some other day, honey."

He lifted a baby carrot off the plate and popped it into Kyle's mouth, kissing his forehead lightly as his hand rubbed over the other's creamy thigh. Kyle took the carrot between his lips, blinking and licking the chapped curves clean afterwards. He nodded a little bit in accordance to Kenny's words, looking mildly disappointed after a moment and pulling his knees up into a naked cocoon as he reviewed his captor's words, seeming newly unwilling to eat. Too mentally strained and fed so little it became difficult to in large amounts, but he thought nothing of it.

"Unless you want to take a bath today. Do you want to do that?"

Kyle's eyes brightened notably at the mention of a bath and he dropped his legs to the side slightly, leaning into the blond's touch with a slight desperation before he found his arms around Kenny finally in a more bold act then usual.

The blond knew what he was doing. He knew that every soft motion, every kind word, every single little gesture, was endearing Kyle to him. The redhead was falling in love with him all over again and Kenny fucking loved it. He loved the control he had over the other man.

Ken spoke, kissing Kyle again softly. "You should get some sleep if you're tired, though... I don't want you getting too sick. Then we can't play..."

"A bath sounds nice. I can sleep later," he reminded. "I'm not that tired, so... is that okay? I'll be awake for playtime, I promise," he breathed, more out of fear than out of dedication. If Kenny wanted to play, they played, whether Kyle wanted to or not, and Kyle was perpetually terrified of being non-consenting due to the rather violent results. There were two sides to his 'master', he'd analyzed; the side that treated him well if he was agreeable, and the side that was neglectful when he was feeling argumentative, and Kyle had come to like the previous side much more. There were just those simple rules; do what Kenny wants, don't run away from Kenny, don't backtalk to Kenny... and don't speak of anyone else but Kenny. And everything was okay.

He continued to curl against the blond, still holding onto him tightly, eyes flickering around their cavern with worry. "What time is it?"

Kenny smiled at the redhead, standing up and pulling Kyle with him, unhooking the leash the redhead was wearing from a hook on the ceiling. The length of chain was what kept the boy in the cistern; that and the fact that if Kyle so much as moved a foot off the property, a bullet was going through that gorgeous head faster than Kyle could run. Kyle was becoming so much more consenting, however, doing everything required of him with no hesitation in the least, and Kenny enjoyed it through and through. "It's around noon, honey. Don't worry; I'll push back playtime a little bit today. I don't want you to collapse. You'll be able to get a few hours of sleep."

Ken hooked his arms under Kyle's legs and back, holding the skinny man against him as he made his way across the property to the farmhouse. The sun was blinding and Kyle winced away from it, burying his face against Kenny's shoulder as he was carried across the lot. Pushing the door open with his hand and carrying the redhead upstairs, Kenny set Kyle on the counter and started running the tub, checking the heat of the water momentarily before lifting Kyle again and setting him in. Indoors was little of an improvement to Kyle's vision, and his eyes were still adjusting as he was lowered into the comfortable warmth of the bath tub.

Noon... noon was lunch time, typically. He stared around in the warmth of the bath tub, kind of disconcerted with the familiarity. There was something unsettling about his environment. Kenny tied the end of the leash to the shower curtain rod and sitting on the floor beside the bath, running his hand through Kyle's hair slowly.

"It's been a week, Ky," Kenny crooned, voice low and sweet. "A whole week! Can you believe that? You aren't gonna leave me, are you? You better not... You're never gonna leave me again, are you, Kyle? Because you love me, right? Right?"

Fatigue took Kyle over abruptly and he lost understanding as to why he was so exhausted. Feeling Kenny's hand through his hair drew a drunken stare from the red-head's eyes as Kenny's coos pressed in on his consciousness.

_A week..._

Kyle parted his lips slightly. A week. Seven days? That was all. He felt an eternity blow by him every time he was elapsed into darkness, expecting to wake up and for Kenny to wander in with a white beard far past his time. He hadn't seen his own reflection for a long time, and he abruptly desired to do so, but not now.

A few voices that weren't Kenny's spoke to him in the back of his mind in the form of memories as he continued to stare in the opposite direction before he finally turned to face the blond beside him. He stared into his eyes for a long time, captivated by the brightness of their blue. Stan had blue eyes, but they were dark blue. He remembered what Stan looked like better than himself; blankly he stared at Kenny before leaning his head against the blond and nodding, vision hazy with faint tears. He abruptly slipped under water to submerge himself fully before sitting up again to hide this fact, before turning back to Kenny again and pawing across the floor until he found the blonds hands.

Kyle nodded reassuringly at last to the previous array of questions, giving Kenny's hands a gentle squeeze and licking his dry lips slowly. "Thank you."

Kenny nodded, holding the other man before taking a bottle of shampoo and starting to wash his red hair slowly, meaningfully, without leaving a lock untouched. Such was Kenny's obsession; everything he did with Kyle had to be done with absolute precision, absolute care... the redhead deserved to be treated like he was a piece of art and not just some careless person, like Stan had been treating him...

Kenny washed the redhead's body next before rinsing him off and making him stand, towel-drying him slowly and taking full advantage of the situation. By taking away Kyle's means of taking care of himself, Kenny was establishing complete dominance over him. He was taking away everything that made the redhead human and instead leaving him totally dependant on Kenny.

The redneck finally finished drying him off and spoke, his voice the same soft coo. "You saw how bright the sun was, Kyle... you don't want to go outside and hurt your eyes, do you? You'll get sick..."

Kyle endured his wash and dry with little resistance, only hitching his shoulders with tension and some nervous expectancy as Kenny's cloth explored more personal regions. He felt his heart beating faster, trying to tell himself it was simply comfort but within him he began to panic. A piece of him realized that he would be going back into the dark soon, and this only increased his anxiety.

Hearing Kenny's words though, Kyle glanced up at the blond slowly. He made to reply when he abruptly caught his reflection in the mirror, and he faltered, staring at himself. He looked... well, not himself at all.

Scruffy. Thin. His hands shifted over his protruding ribs self consciously before he hung his head slowly, feeling disturbed and inadequate, only to peer up at Kenny's question.

"It was warm though..." He chilled effectively, moving closer to the blond for warmth as he peered around the bathroom. His damp hair was of no assistance to his dropping body temperature and he tried hard not to shiver. His eyes followed the leash up to the bathroom's curtain banister before back at Kenny. "Are you going to put me away again?"

Kenny bit the inside of his cheek, looking at the shaking redhead in front of him before unhooking the leash from the shower rod and sighing. "I guess I don't have to put you away right yet... we can sit out in the corn and play a game, okay? The sun will warm you up so you don't get sick. Maybe next time I'm in town I'll get you a blanket."

As the blond led Kyle down the stairs and into the daylight, Kyle proceeded to shield his eyes a bit from the sun, but the adjustment came soon enough. He began to look around with excited interest, recognizing his surroundings. He felt a chill run down his spine as he was lead along by the leash as his eyes wandered to the white-painted walls of the house -

- _blood trickled down the wall in front of him as he cried, the glint of the pistol against his cheek _-

- a deadened paranoia briefly taking his expression as he felt his pulse rise, fearful heat taking his body. He took a sharp breath through his nose as he trailed closely after Kenny with his leash tight and his mind fuzzy as they emerged through the corn field to Kenny's clearing.

The blond headed into the centre to find a spot in between the rows, pulling the redhead down beside him and smiling slightly, playing with a lock of Kyle's red hair lightly. "Let me give you a choice... you can play a game with me now, take a nap, and then have our regular playtime later, or take a nap now and then have playtime be a bit more... interesting later. Which is it?"

Ken watched for the other's response; any indication of hesitance would result in Kenny being not very nice to the other boy, and he didn't want to be all that mean at the moment. He just wanted to play.

Kyle stared at the blond attentively when his choice was provided, not swivelling his eyes away as he thought for a moment before blinking at his own conclusion. "Whatever will make you happier."

Kenny grinned at the other's decision; it was just what he wanted to hear. The blond leaned his forehead against Kyle's, kissing him lightly and pulling him into his lap. "Get some sleep in the sun and then we'll have some playtime later, Ky... I don't want you to hurt."

After all, Kenny took care of his pets. And that's all Kyle was, really; another pet, another person for him to abuse the hell out of and break down entirely.

He had broken Tweek in the past...

Now it was Kyle's turn to follow.


End file.
